


but you can't stop dna

by KayveeWrites



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Bad Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Hurt TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Panic Attacks, Self-Harm, TommyInnit Angst (Video Blogging RPF), Winged Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Winged TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Winged Wilbur Soot, i have a great dad, love u dad, ps i am in not way projecting onto this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-15 00:07:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28804035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KayveeWrites/pseuds/KayveeWrites
Summary: Taking a deep breath, he prepared to slice. He counted down, settling the sword against his fluffy wings. As he hit zero, he began to dig the blade down. The pain was unbearable. He dropped the sword and screamed.-Phil had abandoned Tommy. That wasn’t new. But Phil had gone on to adopt another child to replace him? That’s where it crossed the line. Tommy decides he needs to remove the only thing that defines him as Phil’s son. His wings.
Relationships: Eret & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), No Romantic Relationship(s), Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Comments: 105
Kudos: 2082
Collections: Completed stories I've read





	1. they look at me, like i look at you

**Author's Note:**

> Quick disclaimer, if any of the creators feel express that they are uncomfortable with any in-game or IRL fanfiction, this will be taken down! Thanks.
> 
> TWS: Self-Harm (in a way?), Panic Attacks
> 
> This fic is based on the characters the creators play in the Dream SMP, not the real people!
> 
> I love the idea of Wilbur and Tommy having wings. Plus, I hate c!Phil's parenting, so I whipped this fic up. I don't hate his character. Please don't get that mixed up. Enjoy! ♡
> 
> March 5th, 2021 - Quick addition, I know Phil isn't Tommy's Dad. This was written before I knew that. Plus, this is own fic and headcanon shit, so yeah. If you don't like bad dad Phil, you don't have to read it. I understand his character is more complex, but this is simply for the fic. Thank you.

Tommy stood in front of the mirror, staring at himself with disgust. Tubbo had fallen asleep. He didn’t want to bother the boy. He removed his shirt, holding it in his hands and examining it. It had been a shirt that Wilbur, the alive Wilby, had given him. Gently, Tommy ran his hands over the holes on the back. They had been meant for his wings.

Being the sons of Phil, both Tommy and Wilbur had wings. With Phil practically being gone half of their childhood, out adventuring or helping Techno out, the boys had never learned to properly use their wings. Sure, they could kind-of fly, but that was about it. Still, Wilbur insisted their clothes have wing holes for emergencies or whenever they wanted them out.

Truth be told, neither Wilbur nor Tommy ever kept their wings out. Occasionally, before Wilbur slowly spiralled into insanity, the two would go for a quick flight, just the two of them. Obviously, now, there was no Wilbur, and Tommy hadn’t had his wings out since his brother died. That was probably quite unhealthy, but he didn’t need the reminders of his absent father or dead brother.

A few tears had come to Tommy’s eyes as he examined the shirt. He quickly wiped them away and threw the shirt onto the bed. Stretching his back, Tommy turned back to the mirror. Closing his eyes, he focused all his energy on his wings, commanding and practically begging for them to come out.

Tommy could hear a light poof, and then an excruciating pain hit him. He fell to his knees. It took him a lot of effort to stop him from screaming out. Tommy just sat on the ground, letting himself breathe as his wings came in for the first time in what felt like forever.

Eventually, the pain faded, so Tommy looked up in the mirror. He could see that his wings had fully formed. They were a beautiful, shimmering white. However, they weren’t a perfect white. The wings were littered with skewed feathers, blood, and dirt. It was alright, though, as the wings wouldn’t be around long.

Tommy had decided on cutting off his wings not long after L’manberg blew up. He knew Phil hated him, but he couldn’t hate his Dad. Tommy just needed support. He may have realized he was wrong now, but at that moment, Tommy had done what he thought was best. He may have hurt Techno and lost L’manberg and his father, but he was home, and he had his best friend back. _(No matter how much Tubbo hurt him, they were always best friends.)_

Tommy had been planning to have his wings cut off properly, but earlier today, he had Phil had practically adopted Ranboo. Not that he had anything against the boy. That had just been the last straw. Did Phil really just think he could just try again? Disown one son, kill the other, and still believe he was worthy of parenting?

Turning away from the mirror, he grabbed the freshly sharpened sword lying on the bed. The sword had been an old gift from the alive Wilbur when they started L’manberg. Looking at the weapon and back at his wings, Tommy wasn’t sure what Wilbur would think of him cutting off his wings. Possibly proud? Maybe a little disappointed?

It was a tough stretch, but Tommy positioned the sword so it would slice where his wings protruded from his back. He took a deep breath in. Did he really want to do this? He did. His wings were the only thing that made him uniquely Phil’s child. Take them away, and he was his own man. Tommy Watson would be gone, and Tommy would be reborn.

That was a nice thought. He would become just Tommy, or perhaps he would take Wilbur’s last name. He smiled as he imagined the title ‘Tommy Soot’ being announced. He would be a new man, his own man.

Taking a deep breath, he prepared to slice. He counted down, settling the sword against his fluffy wings. As he hit zero, he began to dig the blade down. The pain was unbearable. He dropped the sword and screamed.

* * *

Tubbo shot up in bed as he heard someone scream. He knew exactly who it was. Tubbo could recognize Tommy’s scream from miles away. He quickly grabbed his sword and ran up to Tommy’s room. He expected an intruder, possibly Dream, maybe even Technoblade.

What he didn’t expect to see was Tommy, with his wings out, sobbing on the ground. There was a blade tossed to the side, and upon further inspection, Tubbo could make out blood on the wings.

“Tommy?” Tubbo stammered, approaching the boy as if he was a scared animal. The younger boy’s head whipped around, and Tommy’s eyes were swollen and red. Carefully crouching down, Tubbo approached Tommy.

“I just want them off, Tubbo,” Tommy whispered, locking his eyes with Tubbo. “I don’t want my wings. Help me take them off.” Tubbo stopped to take in what his best friend had just said. Sure, Tommy didn’t like having his wings out, be he had never wished them gone. Then again, Tubbo had known how much the wings connected Tommy and Wilbur to their father.

Unbeknownst to Tommy, Tubbo had heard about Ranboo’s adoption. He was happy for the boy, but now he could see how badly it affected Phil’s actual living son. Gently, he pulled Tommy into a hug, whispering reassuring words to his pseudo brother.

Tommy had calmed down, and Tubbo had manhandled them both over to the bed. He helped Tommy lay down on his belly to get a better look at the wings.

“Do you really want them gone?” Tubbo asked, wearily. He was met with a nod, and a muttered yes from Tommy’s, whose face was lying in the pillow. Tubbo would do anything for Tommy, and he needed Tommy on his A-game for anything that would come. If that meant cutting the younger boy’s wings off, he would do it.

The two of them worked in sync, getting everything they would need for the procedure. Tubbo wasn’t a doctor, but he had more than enough medical training to get by. Plus, after seeing the desperation in Tommy’s eyes, he couldn’t say no to helping him. Tommy would probably hurt himself without the help anyway.

He had Tommy laid down on the bed, shirt off. There were old blankets tucked around his wings so Tubbo would have a somewhat sterile field. As he prepared his tools and blade, he gave Tommy a small potion. It was powerful pain medicine.

Tubbo, being gentle, cleaned Tommy’s wings. He wasn’t sure if the boy would want to keep them afterwards. After a while, the pain medicine seemed to have kicked in, and Tommy went limp on the bed, mumbling out words. Tubbo decided this was as good a time as ever and started to work away.

He slid a clean cloth into Tommy’s mouth to help with the pain. Then he brought his sterilized blade to his cutting point on the left-wing. Taking a deep breath in, he cut. It was hard to get through the entire thick and fluffy wing, but eventually, it was off. He heard Tommy breathe a sigh of relief.

Quickly, as he watched the blood pool around the newly created wound, he stitched up Tommy’s back. He had taken off all of Tommy’s left-wing, and now there would be a nice big scar. Although, with the right medicine, it would heal perfectly. No one would even know the boy had wings. Picking up the massive wings, Tubbo gently set them aside.

Tommy muttered a few thank you’s, and Tubbo quickly got to work on the right-wing. It went as smoothly as the first, and after a few minutes, the left side of Tommy’s back had a long line of stitches in it as well. He then put the newly cut wing beside the other one. He admired them for a moment. They were truly stunning. He wondered why Tommy didn’t keep them out more often. Then again, he wasn’t in Tommy’s shoes.

Returning to his patient, he applied some cream to the wounds before bandaging them up. Tubbo sternly ordered a few days of bed rest, and Tommy agreed hastily, just thankful that any reminders of his father were gone.

Looking at the clock, Tubbo noticed it was pretty late. Almost two in the morning. They both needed sleep. He started heading towards his room before Tommy grabbed his wrist. A silent plea for him to stay. Tubbo just smiled and crawled into bed beside him. They would be okay.

* * *

Tommy had been in bed for the past few days. Tubbo had been ensuring he was healing up nicely. Honestly, Tommy didn’t mind the resting. He was just happy that he no longer had wings on his back. _(Thankfully, they hadn’t grown back either)._

He had developed a fun hobby, sewing. He had gone through all his clothes and sewn the wings holes, so they looked like a clothing piece an average person would wear. It made him feel better. Maybe the next time Phil saw him, his father would realize you can’t just get a new kid and expect your actual son not to be hurt by that.

He had gotten through all of his clothes, and now he sat in bed with his final piece of clothing—Wilbur’s coat. Handling the coat with the utmost care, he gently stitched it up. As he continued to examine it, he noted the small patch on the arm of the jacket. It was a beautiful set of wings, and if Tommy could recall, they were identical to Wilbur’s.

The patch had been a gift from Phil to Wilbur. To mark that his father would always be at his side. That hadn’t really been true, considering Phil didn’t respond to any of Wilbur’s letters or make any moves to come to visit. He rubbed his thumb over the patch a few times as if deciding what to do with it.

After a bit of thinking, he got to work on removing the memory of their father’s absence. Tommy worked quickly, and eventually, the jacket was as good as new. He bundled it up and brought it to his chest. Holding it as if it were Wilbur himself. He missed his brother so goddamn much. At this point, Tommy didn’t care if Wilbur had blown up L’manberg. He just wanted his brother back.

He was interrupted by his thoughts by a knock at the door. It probably wasn’t Tubbo, considering the boy said he would be out all day. He was going to work on Snowchester or something along those lines. Tommy settled the coat on the bed before he carefully made his way up off the bed and towards the door, wincing the whole way.

He opened it, not sure who he was expecting. He was surprised to see Eret standing at the door, a smile on their face. Tommy returned the expression, yet he was still tense. He was always uneasy around Eret. Stepping aside, he let the king in.

Holding his back, Tommy led the way to his bed. He crashed gently onto the headboard, filled with pillows, while Eret sat on the end. The king looked at him questioningly, curiously cocking their head. While waiting for Eret to provide a reason for being here, Tommy began sipping on his water.

“I know this is a little late. But uh, we are trying to resurrect Wilbur in a few hours.” Eret explained, and Tommy all but spit his water. They were bringing Wilbur back and didn’t tell him till the day off? Tommy scoffed, which lead him to break into a coughing fit.

Eret reached out to place a hand on Tommy’s back, but the boy flinched under their touch. Tommy muttered an apology, and he let the king’s hand on his back. He was thankful for someone being able to rub his back. He leaned into the touch.

Eret had been messaging his back for quite a few moments before their face showed a confused expression. _Shit._ Eret’s hand had found it’s way to where Tommy’s winds were. The king had known he had wings. Before Eret betrayed them, the king would watch Wilbur and Tommy fly.

Tommy expected Eret to say something, but they just hummed, commenting on how the wounds were healing well. Tommy’s eyes lit up. Eret didn’t mention his wings. That was his first step to becoming his own wings. He almost collapsed right there in Eret’s arms, but he managed to stay composed.

The two exchanged details regarding where Wilbur’s resurrection would take place, along with the time. Tommy thanked the king, not just regarding the news about his brother. Eret had brought him some sort of peace.

As Eret left, Tommy settled into the pillow. He was his own person, and his brother was going to come back soon. Everything would be okay.

* * *

Despite Tubbo ordering seven days of bed rest, and Tommy only being about three days in, he still got up. He needed to be there for Wilbur. Tommy winced as he moved around. Gently shuffling through his chest, he grabbed a fresh pair of clothes.

Being cautious of his injuries, Tommy changed into the clothes. They were warm and clean. Tubbo must have done the laundry. He tied his boots and put on some gloves. Checking the time, he headed towards the door.

On his way out, he grabbed Wilbur’s coat off his hook, throwing it over his shoulders. He smiled. Wilbur would be happy to have his prized possession back if this resurrection thing actually worked.

He headed towards the remains of L’manberg. Eret had informed him the resurrection would take place where Wilbur died. Tommy had a skip in his step, although he was trying to be careful, making sure he wouldn’t pull his stitches or overexert himself.

Eventually, he arrived. He made a mental note of who was there: Ghostbur, _Eret,_ _~~his Dad~~ , _ _Phil and Ranboo._ He skirted down the rocks, landing close to the shrine the group had built. He settled on a nearby rock. His back was killing him.

He was surprised to find Eret sitting down beside him, passing him a small vial. He examined it. The label read ‘pain medicine,’ and he quickly downed it. He thanked the king, who just nodded, a smile on their face.

Phil watched from afar as Eret and Tommy interacted. He could read what the vial said. Why would Tommy need pain medicine? Had his ~~son~~ -had Tommy been hurt when they blew up L’maberg? Phil made a mental note to stop calling Tommy his son. He betrayed Techno. Of course, what Phil failed to recognize was how much he hurt Tommy, his real son.

Phil also noticed that Tommy had Wilbur’s jacket. As the boy turned to grab something, he could see the stitches on the back. When had Tommy taken up stitching, and why would Wilbur’s coat need stitches? _Oh. Wilbur’s jacket had wing holes in it._ Millions of questions raced through Phil’s head, Tommy still had his wings. Why would he stitch the holes? He pulled himself out of his thoughts, turning back to Ghostbur.

The resurrection went as planned, yet of course, it didn’t work. Wilbur would need a totem of undying to come back to life. Tubbo had arrived at some point, too, pulling Tommy aside between the attempts to scold him for getting out of bed. Tommy just told Tubbo that he needed to see his older brother.

Tubbo let him stay until the final attempt at a resurrection had failed. He wasn’t going to let his best friend exert himself over a stupid totem. Tommy needed rest, not stress. Tommy walked back home, holding his back in pain. Tubbo sighed and joined the group in finding the totem.

Eret approached him, offering what they knew about Tommy’s injuries. Tubbo just told him what had happened. There was no point in hiding it. Tommy wanted to be his own man, anyway. Eret only offered a smile and explained that they understood why Tommy did it.

After a while, Phil had only expressed his concerns to Tubbo. His adopted son only scoffed, then laughed.

“Why did he stitch the wing holes on Wilbur’s jacket?” Phil asked. Tubbo just smirked at him as he started to walk away.

_“Simple. He doesn’t need them anymore.”_

* * *

_“Just remember when you are ignoring him, you are teaching him to live without you. - Unknown._


	2. i won't be, no i won't be like you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I was gonna drop off this stuff tomorrow and see if Tubbo will allow me to see Tommy,” Phil muttered, and tears were rolling down his cheeks. “Wanna come?” He asked, his voice laced with pain.
> 
> “Yeah,” Techno responded, his voice showing hints of regret, guilt and sadness. It’s been the first time in a long time he wasn’t speaking in monotone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick disclaimer, if any of the creators feel express that they are uncomfortable with any in-game or IRL fanfiction, this will be taken down! Thanks.
> 
> TWS: Panic Attacks, Mentioned Abuse, Self-Harm (in a way)
> 
> This fic is based on the characters the creators play in the Dream SMP, not the real people!
> 
> I'm sorry it took so long to get this second chapter out. Anyway, I took some suggestions from the comments and whipped this up. Enjoy! ♡

It took Phil a minute to process what Tubbo had said. The second he understood it, he turned on the boy and pinned him against the wall. There was an abundance of fear in Phil’s eyes. Cutting off your wings was a dangerous thing, and he could never imagine Tommy doing it.

“You’re kidding?” Phil whispered, his sword up to Tubbo's throat. The younger man just smirked and shook his head. Stumbling back, Phil dropped his hold on Tubbo. Tubbo quickly brushed the dirt off his clothes before continuing on his way.

“Tubbo, wait!” Phil called after him, running towards Tubbo.

“What do you want, _Dad_?” Tubbo spat, venom lacing his voice. Phil had adopted him when he was younger, and at this point, he felt disowned too. Of course, Tommy’s pain was much more immense, but losing the only father-figure, had hurt Tubbo as well.

“Is he alright?” Phil asked quietly, and Tubbo could swear he could hear some minor concern in his voice. That was new, as Phil had never shown care for him, Tommy or Wilbur. It was always about Techno.

“He’s doing fine. He could be doing better,” Tubbo answered genuinely before pausing and choosing to spit another snarky remark. “Not thanks to you, though. All of our medical supplies went down with L’manberg.” With that, Tubbo started walking back towards Tommy’s house. They didn’t need him to look for a totem. Tommy needed him.

Phil watched Tubbo walk away in silence. He felt so fucking guilty. Had he driven Tommy so far that he chose to cut off his wings. Had he really told his son he was disowned with his actions? Phil shook his head. He would need to talk to Tommy later.

For now, he needed a totem. He needed to revive his oldest son and apologize. Make amends as best as he could. Not that they could makeup, Wilbur was always protective of Tommy. The more Phil thought about it, the more he realized Wilbur had always been there when he wasn’t.

He’d come home from an adventure late at night, only to hear Wilbur singing to a crying Tommy, who just had a nightmare. Young Tommy would get sick and only accept his medicine from Wilbur. Then there was the most significant indicator that should’ve told Phil he needed to be more present in Tommy’s life.

It was father’s day. Phil and Techno arrived at home, the pig-hybrid stalking up to the guest room. He peered into Tommy’s room, which he shared with Tubbo. The two of them were colouring. Phil had let a smile grace his lips, assuming they were for him.

What had surprised him was Wilbur receiving the two cards. Both cards had a drawing of the three boys, and Phil had cried as he looked at them. Tommy’s card had a ‘Happy Wilbur Day!’ scribbled in Tommy’s handwriting.

Phil was snapped back to reality by Ranboo calling him. He quickly rushed to find his pseudo-son, who was holding up a totem with a smile on his face. Phil praised him, a silent part of his brain asking if he ever gave Tommy this kind of attention.

He started grabbing his and Ranboo’s things so they could make the journey back to Techno’s house. Phil stopped in his tracks as he saw Eret staring at him. Eret’s eyes held daggers, silent threats being sent straight to Phil. Eret knew as well, and Phil could see the hatred in the king’s eyes.

Before Phil could call out, Eret had stalked off. Taking a deep breath, Phil grabbed Ranboo’s hands, steering them both towards Techno’s house. He had a lot to make up for and so little time.

* * *

Phil had practically paid no mind to Ranboo on their ride back to Technoblade’s cottage. For the first time in forever, his entire focus was on Tommy. Tubbo had said a majority of their medical supplies were destroyed. Wings were to be taken very seriously. Sure, Tubbo was an excellent doctor, but they would need better tools and potions.

He rushed into the house, starting to skim through Techno and his’s chests. Ranboo watched him curiously before heading towards his room. Frantically, Phil grabbed a backpack and started shoving whatever he could think of into it.

After assembling quite an abundance of supplies, Phil headed into the kitchen and set the bag on the counter. He needed to stress cook. Plus, some food would make Tommy and Tubbo feel better. It certainly wouldn’t make up for the years of abandonment, but it could be a start.

So, that’s how Technoblade found Phil in the kitchen cooking up soups and stews and bread. The hybrid cocked his eyebrows at his friend. Phil only cooked when something happened. The last time he cooked this way was after he killed Wilbur.

“What’s wrong, Phil?” Techno asked, entering the kitchen. He grabbed a spoon to test the soup as Phil began to explain.

“Tommy cut off his wings,” Phil answered, his voice monotone. Techno had to restrain himself from spitting out his soup. Techno’s face quickly flickered to a worried expression. In reality, Techno had been too harsh on the boy. In fact, Tommy hadn’t betrayed him, just backed out of their deal last minute. It was personal, not political.

Techno looked over at the packed bag. “What’s that for?”  
  
“Tubbo said their shit got blown up when we, you know” Phil intimidated an explosion in his hands. “Tommy needs better stuff to heal properly.” In a matter of seconds, anger was visible all over Techno’s face.

“I promise it’s all my-” Phil began, and Techno cut him off, explaining why he was angry.

“I’m not angry at you. I’m angry at myself.” Techno paused, dwelling on his thoughts. “We left children with absolutely nothing Phil. To do what? Teach them a fucking lesson?” Phil just bowed his hand in shame, and Techno followed suit.

“I was gonna drop off this stuff tomorrow and see if Tubbo will allow me to see Tommy,” Phil muttered, and tears were rolling down his cheeks. “Wanna come?” He asked, his voice laced with pain.

“Yeah,” Techno responded, his voice showing hints of regret, guilt and sadness. It’s been the first time in a long time he wasn’t speaking in monotone. 

* * *

Tubbo was in the kitchen making breakfast when he heard a knock on the door. He looked over curiously at Eret, who had joined the duo for the meal. The king just shrugged, and so Tubbo headed towards the entrance.

On his way, he grabbed his sword, just in case. Peering through the windows in the door, he was shocked to see an unarmoured Phil and Technoblade standing outside his and Tommy’s home. Hesitantly, he opened the door, weapon visible and at the ready.

“What the fuck do you two want?” Tubbo demanded, holding his sword a tiny bit higher. At this point, Eret had come over after hearing the noise, quickly drawing their weapon as they saw who it was.

“Well, with Tommy’s wings,” Phil nervously rubbed his neck. “I wanted to drop off supplies, maybe possibly check on him?” Phil admitted, holding up the backpack full of supplies. Techno also held up a bag full of food.  
  
“You lost that-” Tubbo’s remark was cut off by Eret’s hand on his shoulder. Scoffing, Tubbo lowered his weapon, opening the door for their ‘guests.’

Techno and Phil quickly gave them curt nods before heading inside and making their way to the kitchen. It gave Phil the chance to look around the house. There were swords, maps, blueprints, empty potions and random blocks thrown all around the floor. Although, the kitchen seemed pretty clean. _It must be Tubbo’s doing_ , Phil thought.

Phil watched as Eret settled back in their seat. Tubbo pulled up two chairs, and uncomfortably, Techno and Phil sat down. Tubbo set out two extra mugs in front of their ‘guests,’ holding up a coffee and teapot, a silent offer.

“Tea would be good,” Techno answered, his head hanging in shame. Phil just asked for the same. Tubbo poured the tea, refusing to look at the two. The boy set out some milk and sugar before taking his seat beside Eret on the other side of the table.

The four drank in silence before Phil spoke up. “Do you think I could go talk to Tommy?” Tubbo looked up at him, pausing for a moment before nodding. Phil set down his tea and began walking towards the room when Eret grabbed his arm.

“You hurt him. I’ll break you.” The king threatened, loosening their grip and then letting go of Phil’s arms. Phil gulped. He doesn’t think he’s seen Eret any scarier. Hesitantly he nodded and headed towards Tommy’s room.

Looking back, he noticed Techno starting to give Tubbo some supplies. He smiled slightly, watching as Tubbo’s fear loosen. Turning back to the door, he knocked.

* * *

Tubbo wanted to kick Techno and Phil out so bad, but the supplies would really help Tommy out. Eret had practically told him this when the king placed a reassuring hand on Tubbo’s shoulder. Now, he sat awkwardly in the kitchen with Techno. The man who had once executed him. He was thankful Eret sat nearby, probably the only person keeping him from breaking down.

Techno finished tea, looking up at Tubbo for the first time in a long time. Techno took the chance to look at Tubbo. The boy’s eyes had lost their spark, no joy in them. He frowned. He had taken that away, hadn’t he? Tubbo’s shoulders were also very tense, his hand hanging close to the sword hanging on his belt. He was still scared of the hybrid.

Tubbo, nervously, stared right back at Techno. Techno’s eyes had gone a darker red. When the two boys had first met each other, they were a light pink, and now they were almost crimson. Only knowing violence from Techno, Tubbo assumed that he was trying to see if he could fight him and Eret. He was surprised to see Techno pull out fresh food from his bag.

Tubbo cocked his head, utterly confused. Techno just offered up the plates to Tubbo. He was presented with a fresh soup, a meat stew and a fresh loaf of bread. He stuttered a thank you before going to put them away. 

Reaching over the table, Techno placed a gentle hand on Tubbo shoulder. He was shocked when the boy violently flinched away from him. Techno’s eyes soften, and he locked his eyes with Tubbo’s.

“I’m truly sorry for everything, kiddo,”

* * *

A second or two after he knocked, he heard Tommy invite him, or whoever Tommy assumed he was, inside the room. Phil gently pushed the door open to see Tommy sitting in bed, not even bothering to look up. The kid was surrounded by pillows, propping up his back. He was currently shirtless, and there were bandages visible on his back. 

He watched as the boy sketched and wrote in his notebook. After a moment or two, Tommy finished what he was working on and looked up. The second he saw Phil, he looked back down at his work.

“Oh, it’s you,” Tommy whispered, clearly suppressing a laugh, which probably would’ve been more like a sob if it had actually come out.

“Hey, son,” Phil sighed, sitting on the edge of Tommy’s bed. Clearly, that was the wrong word to start with. Tommy’s face turned from sad to angry and betrayed. The boy clenched his fist, his hands going white.

“You lost the right to call me son,” Tommy hissed, his voice full of poison that stung at Phil’s heart. It was the poison of truth. The fact that he indeed truly lost the right to be Tommy’s father. 

“How are your wounds healing?” Phil inquired, trying to break the awkward tension and hatred flowing through the air.

“Fine,” Tommy muttered, moving his stare towards the other side of his room. He was looking quite intently. Phil looked over to see Tommy looking at his wings. They were sitting on the floor, wrapped in protective plastic. Phil had to hold in a gasp.

“You can have them if you want.” Tommy offered, his voice soft and genuine. “They’re the only thing that makes you pay attention to me anyway,” He admitted. Phil had to hold back, yelling at Tommy to tell him that wasn’t true. But he couldn’t because deep down, Phil knew he should’ve paid more attention to Tommy. He couldn’t lie.

“Tommy, what do you want from me?” Phil asked, his voice on the verge of begging. He wanted to help his son and rebuild their relationship. Tommy just absolutely erupted. He started giggling, then broke down sobbing, before starting to yell at Phil.

“I want my birthday cards and fishing trips! I want you to teach me how to fly!” Tommy was now panicking and on the verge of hyperventilating. “Wilbur shouldn’t have to be a parent! I should get to be a kid, Phil.” Tommy spat, tears rolling down his face faster than he could control.

Phil sat in silence, stunned. By this point, Eret, Tubbo and Techno had made their way to the room, watching from the doorway. Tommy took Phil’s silence as ignorance, scoffing before continuing.

“Then you went and teamed with Dream.” This broke Phil out of his trance. He was confused. What would Dream have to do with this? “The man who abused-” Everyone went pale, Tommy going as white as a ghost. The boy quickly brought his knees up to his chest, rocking himself back and forth.

“Not an abuser, just a friend.” He paused. “Why the fuck did I say that? Fuck.” Before continuing his affirmations of reminding himself, Dream didn’t hurt him. Phil stared at his son in shock. Tommy had just admitted that Dream broke him beyond repair. Was he that shitty of a father he didn’t notice?

“Tommy-” Phil started, bringing a reassuring hand towards Tommy. He was surprised to see his hand slapped away by his youngest son.

“Get. The. Fuck. Out.” Tommy growled, his eyes feral. He was having a panic attack, and Phil and Techno’s presence was not helping. In fact, they had teamed with his abuser, and in Tommy’s panic state (not regular), that made them just as bad.

Eret skirted in front of Tommy, trying to comfort the boy. As Tommy saw who it was, he broke down into the king’s arms. Eret just let him, not caring if their royal attire got soaked from Tommy’s sobs. Phil had stood up at this point, giving ~~his~~ the kid some space.

“I think you need to leave,” Tubbo muttered, holding the door to Tommy’s room wide open. Phil couldn’t move, but Techno stuttered a nod, quietly thanking Tubbo. The two adults left the house, heading home, the sounds of Tommy sobbing etched in their heads.

They knew they could never make up for what they’d done.

* * *

_“Being family is determined more by behaviour than blood.” - Unknown._

**Author's Note:**

> Again, this is about Phil's roleplay character, not him! Thanks for reading! ♡


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